


I Hate That You Hate Me

by lazylyz



Series: We Did This to Each Other [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Canon Divergence, Flirting, Implied Consent, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Swearing, thinly veiled sexual innuendo, vol 3 qrow for vol 7 but without the drinking, 😭😭😭 i accidentally deleted the original
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazylyz/pseuds/lazylyz
Summary: Ironwood had given his command. Tail Qrow Branwen and make sure he stayed out of trouble. Clover did not have a problem with following those orders, what with Qrow’s history of drunken fighting, vandalizing Atlas property, and his general uncouth behavior towards authority. Clover, however, did not account for the infamous huntsman to focus his vitriol on him, and in the process, got more than he bargained for from the General’s directive.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: We Did This to Each Other [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184249
Comments: 48
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 😭😭😭 i accidentally deleted the original story. 😭😭😭 all your wonderful comments and kudos

Ironwood called Clover into his office the night the Ace Ops arrested the group that crash-landed a stolen airship. The thieves, as it turned out, were the very kids Ironwood had been on the lookout for, and thankfully, once that had been established, everything had been smoothed over.

The group had been given the Academy’s guest quarters, a full hearty meal, and a summons to a meeting come morning when they were better rested. The only remaining question at hand was the reason the General pulled Clover into his office alone.

“I’m not sure what their intentions are,” Ironwood stated plainly. Sitting behind the desk, he rested his chin atop his hands. “Yes, they came all the way from Haven, but with the com towers down, we don’t know what happened. All I have is Qrow’s account.”

“Do you not trust his word?” Clover asked from where he stood at the screen prompter in the middle of the room.

“It’s not that. It’s just…” The General let out a weary sigh. One that Clover had not seen in some time. “He tends to have an influence on things, so to speak. Whenever he’s around, things tend to go sideways. I want you to keep an eye on him and report back to me if anything distressing pops up.”

Clover cocked his head. He had heard many disparaging things about Qrow from Winter and others, but this request felt different somehow. The huntsman’s lack of restraint when it came to authority, his drinking habits, his uncouth behavior towards women, and not to mention his penchant for destroying Atlas property were all good reasons to keep an eye on someone, but as Clover looked over the footage of the group’s capture, he could not help but wonder just how much a nuisance Qrow Branwen could be.

Judging by the shots of the group crash landing into the outer edge of Mantle, Clover could at least see the General’s concern about his influence on those kids.

“I get that he is a liability,” Clover said, looking up from his scroll. “But why exactly do you want me to watch over him?”

“Let’s just say I think you two would have something in common, and hopefully that commonality would keep him on our side and minimize his damage in the process. Besides, I don’t need him and Winter destroying the Academy courtyard.”

Clover understood Ironwood’s desire to keep Winter and Qrow separated, but he vehemently doubted he would ever have something in common with the infamous huntsman. Ever the soldier, though, he would follow the General’s orders and hope that whatever Qrow got up to would not cause him too much trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

The road-weary travelers were given ample time to acclimate to life in Atlas. New clothes, upgrades to their weapons, all access to training rooms and study halls, not to mention cafeterias with endless buffets. The group as a whole looked much more put together, but after a few short days, Clover decided that he still knew next to nothing about Qrow.

Ironwood had asked for an update, and for the first time, Clover found he could not give a proper report. Except for the few minor briefings the team leaders had attended, Clover had seen no trace of the man throughout the Academy halls.

After his debriefing with the General, Clover began asking around a few of the known watering holes where drunkards liked to go, but every time he gave a description of Qrow, those who gave Clover an ear had no recollection of him being there. Finding the man he was ordered to keep track of would prove difficult.

Clover checked the training grounds after coming up empty at the bars. It would seem he was in luck. The kids were in the process of figuring out how to use the rooms, and Qrow was standing nearby, arms crossed, nonchalantly leaning against the wall.

Qrow’s presence surprised Clover. He figured once in Atlas, Qrow would leave the kids to their own devices, but here he remained. Just nearby if called upon, but far enough to give them their space.

Instead of intruding on their practice, Clover took to the overlook high above the training rooms. He picked a seat further from the window as to not draw attention to himself and settled in for some light reconnaissance.

The kids mulled around, checking out the training settings, and generally goofed off until Qrow started methodically approaching each student. He pulled them aside one on one presumably to go over new facets of their weapons. Though Clover could not hear their conversations, it was clear the kids respected Qrow’s opinion and input as they gave him their undivided attention.

The seat next to Clover squeaked, drawing his attention away from the elder huntsman. Elm plopped down with a sigh and rested an elbow on the divider.

“Recon?” She asked.

“Something like that,” Clover said under his breath.

“Got any ideas who we should pair with to monitor them?”

“Well,” he said, drawing out the consonants. He pointed to the boisterous redhead swinging her weapon around. “She’s got a hammer.”

“Very astute observation, Captain. Do you want my recommendation?”

He glanced in her direction with a flat look and could tell by her sly smirk that he was not going to like what she had to say.

“You’re going to tell me either way,” he said.

She grinned wide and leaned in close, taunting him with a wriggling brow. “Don’t let him ruffle your feathers, Captain.”

“Who?”

“Qrow,” Elm clarified.

“I’m not going to do that,” Clover said resolutely, “I’m perfectly willing to work with him.”

She chuckled, looking down at the group below. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” Clover asked as he followed her gaze.

“Well,” she started, making sure his attention was fully on the training room below. “Tall, dark hair with streaks of gray, a certain swagger that makes him unassuming, and from what I hear a healthy appetite for any number of people that-”

“Elm, that’s entirely unprofessional,” Clover said, cutting her off. He hoped his stern expression would waylay further teasing, but to his dismay, Elm continued with a pleased air about her.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not your type,” she sang back at him.

“Elm.”

“Fine, I’ll leave it for now, but let me know when you do decide to tap that. I want all the juicy goss.”

“There will be no tapping that.”

“Ah, so you want him to tap you.”

He felt a flush fill his cheeks but tamped it down. “That’s entirely unprofessional,” he repeated.

“Not really,” she reasoned. “He’s just a huntsman that’ll be working with us, so you’re well within the bounds of pursuing something if you wanted to.”

“I don’t know him, and the things I’ve heard make me even less inclined to give him a pass.”

Elm hummed and looked back down at the training room. “I don’t know. He seems to be working well with the kids. Isn’t that one of the qualities you use to judge someone’s character?”

“And this case can be the exception.”

“Maybe it’s all a front,” Elm said, not letting her point go.

“What does being an asshole and a drunk get you other than driving people away?” Clover asked.

“The guy did work for Ozpin as a spy, didn’t he? Maybe he had to,” Elm offered. “You know firsthand our jobs are not exactly designed for work-life balance. What do you think being a spymaster gets you?”

Elm’s assessment made him pause. Clover had not thought of it that way, and he was sure the General had not either, only seeing the ramifications of Qrow’s behavior rather than the reason behind such conduct. Though, he had no way of confirming this theory without first getting closer to the individual in question.

If Qrow was using his behavior as a cover, then Clover felt even more pressed to follow the General’s orders. No one would count on the bitter and cynical drunk to be the one prying for information, and in Atlas, that could be dangerous. With the current embargo and the election around the corner, Clover felt it was all the more important to keep tabs on his query.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why hello, there little birdy. You wouldn’t happen to know where your namesake is?” Clover called out to a blackbird nestled in the crux of the tree. He had spent the better part of an hour looking for Qrow in hopes of figuring more out about the man before the Amity mission briefing, but with his search coming up empty, Clover decided to take respite in a quiet courtyard between the dorms of the Academy.

“Or actually he’s probably named after you,” Clover amended to the crow. In response, it fluffed and ruffled its feathers in a distinctly perturbed manner as it rose from its perch. Clover found the behavior endearing but quickly realized he probably disrupted its slumber. The bird squawked loudly in his direction before taking off.

“I didn’t mean to bother you!” Clover called after the crow as it flew out of the small courtyard and out of sight. Clover felt sorry for disturbing the bird’s rest, but that quickly faded when a familiar figure appeared around the same corner, hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched. Clover felt his luck had finally turned in his favor.

“Why are you shouting at birds?” The gravel in Qrow’s voice scathing.

“Oh, you heard that…” Clover said, scratching at the back of his head. “Uh, what brings you out here?”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Qrow said. A flat look with a single arched brow stared Clover down. “And I heard you were looking for me?”

“Oh.” Clover startled, not realizing word got around about his search for Qrow, but with some quick thinking, recalled the excuse he would use to press for information about the flighty man. “I was thinking we could, uh, get to know one another before we start assigning teams for missions.”

“Right,” Qrow replied, drawing out the consonants. “And what would you suggest ‘ _to get to know each other’_.”

“Well, communication is a good start. Having an idea of how people generally work and knowing their favored strengths before going into the field helps minimize issues. Our fighting styles, for one, would be a good place to start.”

“Okay, mister hotshot. You’re the one who arrested me. What’s your assessment of my fighting style since I’m sure you’ve reviewed the video?”

Thinking back on the rap sheet General Ironwood gave him, Clover felt a disconnect between the detailed grievances Atlas had against the infamous huntsman and Qrow’s behavior since arriving to the city in the sky. Granted the airship had been stolen, but Clover felt the reasons outweighed the regulation, especially with Salem waiting in the shadows.

“You know, I’ll be honest; you have me utterly baffled. I was expecting you to be drunk and unruly,” Clover said in a joking manner but instantly regrated the words when Qrow’s demeanor swiftly changed. The slight frown deepened to a scowl. His brows furrowed and straightened his back, bringing him to Clover’s eye level.

“I see how it is, wonder boy, listening to the gossip,” Qrow cut him off, undertone grating against Clover’s ears. “I know you Atlas types can’t think for yourself, but I at least thought an esteemed Captain such as yourself wouldn’t rely on others to make those conclusions for him.”

Clover gapped at Qrow’s quick cutting words. He took in a breath readying his response, but Qrow barreled on, not giving Clover the chance to explain.

“Word of advice leave me the fuck alone and tail someone else.” The pure vitriol in his eyes was enough to halt Clover’s words on his tongue. Qrow sneered and continued, “You can drop the act. I know Jimmy put you up to this, watching me, making sure I don’t cause trouble. I’m perfectly capable of working on my own. I’ll stay out of your way, but I’m not letting these kids out of my sight. I know the General cares more about his precious military installments than he does the people giving their lives for it. Those kids have been through far too much for me to let some Atlas wackos pull one over on them. They’re not soldiers, Captain.”

With a swish of his cloak, Qrow stormed away, leaving Clover entirely flummoxed from the encounter. There was no doubt Qrow disdained the Atlas Military, but Clover could not help but be heartened at the man’s words. Qrow was here to look out for the kids, not guide their decisions or steer their paths. He was a guardian and caretaker, ready on the outside if they should ever need anything.

Envy burned in Clover’s chest as memories of his own childhood shattered and broken, tossed between those who thought they could use his fortune and those who wished to take it with no elder looking out for him so selflessly. Qrow Branwen was not the man Atlas thought he was, and Clover resented the man’s attitude as much as he found it hard not to let Qrow’s motives sow seeds of hope in his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Clover never got to apologize to Qrow for his assumptions about his character, but then again, Qrow never really gave him the chance to. Quick to assume the worst, Qrow brushed him off without giving him the chance to even explain his side, and now Clover didn’t feel the need to apologize.

There was one final debriefing before the mission in the mines, and Clover had called Ruby and Jaune in as well as Qrow. During his overview, Qrow would cast him unreadable looks, looks Clover had no time to try to decipher.

Instead, Clover kept his focus on delivering pertinent information to the kids. He went over the rosters with Ruby and Jaune, letting them know how the teams would be divided up, and he made sure he vocalized his confidence in their abilities.

“And, that leaves us,” Clover said, addressing Qrow directly. “We’ll be taking the mountainside entrance.”

Qrow locked eyes with him and nodded but said nothing further. 

The flight over was awkward with nothing but the dull whirl of the turbines to break the quiet between them. Thankfully, once they were in the mine itself, Qrow was the one to break the ice and start the conversation.

“Gotta say, I'm still not really used to working with other Huntsmen in the field.”

“But you were on a team before, weren't you?”

The deep long-suffering sigh from Qrow carried weight, but he answered with the simple declaration, “Long time ago. I just found working alone tends to be for the best.”

Clover knew he had no right to ask for clarification, but with his directive from the General, he could not stop thinking of ways he might be able to ingratiate himself with Qrow. Working as partners for the time being definitely would be the best way, and so he responded in kind, “Well, I think that's a shame.”

Qrow slipped forward, feet losing traction on the ice. Clover thanked his luck he was able to catch the man’s arm and pull him back up with ease. He caught the edge of a frown forming on Qrow’s lips but walked away before Qrow could respond with anything spiteful. Tapping his communicator, he called out to the other groups, “Alpha here. Give me an update.”

It was quiet between them again until they came across the Geist down a branching mineshaft. Qrow offered suppressing fire while Clover called in over their communicators to the other teams, letting them know they found the target.

Deploying Kingfisher, he sent a hook out towards the Geist, but it fell short, catching on nothing but smoke as the Geist swooped away and into a giant chunk of ice. It began to gather elements of ice, rock, and metal from the surrounding area, and Clover sprang forward, hoping to stop a few of the larger items from combining with the Geist.

“Wait, stop!” Qrow called out behind him.

Clover turned to look at Qrow, catching the broken beam out of the corner of his eye. He took a step back and let it fall between him and the Geist. Their line of sight to the Geist clouded by dust and debris. Clover looked down when it settled only to find a large gaping hole where the Geist once stood. Clover stared down the hole and frowned.

“Damnit,” he said, kicking a loose pebble down into the cavernous hole. He then clicked the button on his earpiece. “Target escaped, last seen headed east.” He dropped his arm and propped it on his hip. He looked down at the hole and wondered if it was his luck or the quick thinking of his new partner that got him out of this one. “Thanks for the call-out. That could have been bad.”

“I wouldn't thank me,” Qrow said, coming alongside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder and looked down the hole together. “My Semblance brings misfortune. Sometimes I can't keep it under control.”

_Misfortune._

A sick twisting sensation seized Clover’s gut. Ironwood could have told him about Qrow’s semblance, but then again, the General might not have known since people with passive semblances tended to keep them under wraps. Those thoughts did nothing to stop the questions that flittered through his head; questions he knew he had no right to ask based on the pained grimace the man gave him, but to have them match up so well, opposite sides of the same favor because what else is his fortune but others failure.

Readying Kingfisher, he brushed his inquiries off. Qrow glanced at him, and Clover offered a slight smile before looking at his scroll. Hoping to keep the strain out of his voice, he asked, “That so?”

After marking their location, Clover looked back up at the bent support beam. He might as well clear the way and keep their mission moving forward despite the rapidly growing desire to know everything about Qrow’s semblance.

“Well, hey, don’t beat yourself up about it,” he said, walking to the side of the crumbling pit. He hooked Kingfisher’s line around the iron strut and pulled hard. The broken joist gave way, clearing out the debris as it fell through the hole in the mineshaft. He turned to Qrow with a smile and said, “My semblance is good fortune. Lucky you, huh?”

He did not understand why he decided to give Qrow a flirty wink at the end, but something overrode all his reasonable thought processes and replaced it with _flirt with the grumpy man_. Qrow’s reaction surprised Clover. He looked stunned at what Clover had no idea. It could be in response to Clover’s semblance or flirting, but he would have no way of knowing without outright asking.

With that course of action out of the question, Clover walked ahead, clicking his communicator on to talk to the other teams. “Charlie, Bravo, you should be able to cut off the target at the heart of the mine. Qrow, and I won't be far behind.”

He hoped Qrow would remain in his own head and follow without prodding Clover for an explanation, and sure enough, footsteps echoed behind him, signaling Qrow trailed behind him without question.

Securing the mines was a breeze after their run-in with the Geist. The Ace Ops worked quickly, dismantling the Grimm’s icy defenses with Clover arriving in time to offer his assistance. They worked seamlessly while Qrow and the kids observed something that pleased him immensely, and by the end of the day, he would call the mission a success. The mines were now cleared out in order to get Amity up and running, and he started to get read on Qrow.

Even with their frosty and short exchange in the mines, Clover felt intrigued by the new information about Qrow’s semblance. Though the constant frowns and icy glares, whenever Clover happened to look in Qrow’s direction, tampered some of his outward fascinations, it did nothing to stop the rampant thoughts racing through his head.

Clover wondered if Qrow’s semblance was the reason why the General had ordered him to tail Qrow, even if it was by happenstance rather than solid information. He felt a pang in his chest. If Qrow’s semblance truly was misfortune, then his drunken and crass behavior could be attributed to coping rather than a cover for spying, as Elm had suggested. If that were so, it would mean Ozpin took advantage of an isolated individual likely struggling to find their footing in an ever-changing world and made them into a spymaster destined to be alone and detached.

The idea brought him back once again to when he grew up with countless elders vying for control over him as if they could gain access to his semblance by being his guardian. He wondered if Ozpin used that information to his advantage. Clover knew the General used his own fortune such in ways, placing him on certain missions where the outcome was critical, inviting him to special banquets where elite socialites had money to spend, and smoothing over cross-department meetings where compromise was key.

In that regard, maybe the General was right, and Clover was more like Qrow than he thought. A semblance that could control fate itself and those who wished to control the wielder.


	5. Chapter 5

After the mission in the mines, it was smooth sailing for the kids. Brand new licenses, a wide-open job board, and a clear sense of purpose, they were ready to officially start their careers as huntsmen and huntresses. Clover, in a way, was proud to be able to help them along their path. Becoming a huntsman or huntress was a huge milestone, and though he did not get to celebrate with them, he made sure to offer his congratulations in the days that followed.

Which was convenient for him because he had a mission of his own to do, and where the kids were, Qrow was sure to follow. Whether it was the mess hall for meals, the break rooms in between missions, or the training rooms for practice, Qrow was always nearby offering advice, playing games, or generally relaxing and enjoying everyone’s company.

What had started out as a directive from General Ironwood, turned into something a little more personal. Since finding out about Qrow’s semblance, Clover could not help but be interested in learning more about the man. And so, he started timing his meals to coincide with the Beacon group. He made sure to change his schedule in the training rooms to either be coming or going when Qrow and the kids had use of the rooms, and he started taking breaks during the day to pop in on the breakroom in hopes of catching anyone resting up for another mission. The other Ace Ops did as well, not giving up the chance to get to know who they would be working with within the coming months.

It was during these times he felt he could observe Qrow in an unrestrained manner. Clover resented Qrow’s ability to brush off those who made requests of him. Though he never instigated fights, he would give a cold shoulder to Atlas Huntsmen and Huntresses, often ignoring their attempts to appease him and have him join their missions. His carefree and aloof disregard for those who approached would then be followed with their apologies for even asking.

Despite not working with regular Atlas personnel, he did take a few missions with the Ace Ops. While working, Clover could not help but admire the way Qrow moved when he fought. He was exceptionally skilled and extremely versatile, making him able to adapt his style to blend seamlessly with the Ace Ops. On a few occasions, Elm bumped Clover, waggling her eyebrows in the process when his attention was on Qrow too long.

Clover would not deny his attraction to Qrow, but his appeal would often be tempered when the missions were over. Qrow never stuck around, making it clear he that though he worked with them, they were not anything more than a means to an end. Qrow had better things to do, and he summed his contempt for Atlas protocol and procedure with one line, _paperwork was for the pencil pushers_.

Elm had laughed at Clover’s disdain for Qrow’s sentiments. Atlas’ structure kept things moving; to step outside that arrangement meant more work for those who followed protocol. Though even with the added paperwork, Clover still found the time to keep tabs on Qrow’s whereabouts, he just did not mean for Qrow to pick up on the fact that he was, in essence, following him around, and on once such occasion, Qrow made it known how he felt about Clover’s failed spying.

“Is there a reason why you won’t stop following me?” Qrow asked, rounding on Clover. Qrow had just left the breakroom, and Clover had followed, deciding he should get back to his paperwork.

“I didn’t… I’m not… I don’t mean to. You just happen to be where I am or where I’m going,” Clover said, throwing his hands up in defense.

“I highly doubt that mister lucky charm,” Qrow said with a sneer. “Are you using your semblance to stalk me? Is that what this has come to?”

“No, I would never, and my semblance does not work like that. It’s not a tracking beacon, Qrow,” Clover lied. His semblance did not track people, but he was certain it helped him be in the right place at the right time, and Qrow did not need to know that.

Qrow, in a manner that Clover figured he did not believe his paltry excuse, quickly closed the distance between them. There was no time to react as Qrow threw out an arm blocking Clover’s only route away. Taking a reactionary step away, Clover’s back hit the wall.

“What was that Captain?”

The way Qrow said that word, Captain, it shook something loose inside Clover, and it took everything in him not to flush. Clover sucked in a breath and held Qrow’s gaze without wavering. To break now would be to show his hand. He could not, not with a man like Qrow.

“Oh,” Qrow said. A lascivious smirk spread across his face, and Clover knew he was sunk. Jabbing a finger to the middle of Clover’s chest, Qrow pressed right above the folded lapel, just beside where Clover’s heart hammered away, betraying him. “You like that soldier boy?”

The insinuation had Clover’s mind in one place, and he couldn't hold back the words, “I’m used to taking orders.”

Qrow's smirk grew. He gently trailed his finger lower and then pressed his body in close, pinning Clover against the wall.

“I think you need to be very careful with your next moves, Captain,” he whispered huskily in Clover’s ear before pulling back.

Not knowing why he did it, Clover arched a single brow and tilted his head down. Taking the oh so tempting lure Qrow dangled in front of him, Clover gruffly asked, “Or what?”

Maybe he thought enticing a response out of Qrow would put them on an even playing field, or maybe, he thought if he pushed back, Qrow would back down, but neither of those things happened. What his tease did do was put a predatory glint in Qrow’s eyes. 

“Be careful what you ask for, Captain,” Qrow said, leaning forward, warning him again. Their eyes remained locked in a heated gaze as Qrow’s words ghosted across Clover’s cheek, and Clover prayed he could not hear the frantic beat of his heart. “I might order you to do something you don’t like.”

Qrow pulled away, smirking as his eyes flitted over Clover’s stiff posture. With a derisive tone that left Clover on edge, he said, “Have a good evening, Captain.”

Clover’s pulse raced through his veins as Qrow made his exit. He let his head drop back against the wall and took in a stilted breath once the man’s cape slipped out of sight around the corner. At the sudden constricting sensation in his slacks, Clover canted his hips in hopes of easing some of the pressure. His brain followed the thoughts of what Qrow could order him to do. The temptation Qrow offered ignited something in Clover that had long been put aside in favor of completing his missions, and any little misstep going forward could lead to something he knew would be crossing the line.

In an attempt to regain some control, Clover slowly let out an extended breath as he adjusted himself in his pants. He could not believe Qrow could make him breathless and wanting in just a few short words. From now on, he would have to be careful around Qrow.


	6. Chapter 6

Clover figured Qrow was going to test the boundaries after their encounter in the hallway. A few sly and underhanded comments here and there sparked their verbal sparring matches for the rest of the week. Clover with his orders and briefings, and Qrow with his general contempt for paired missions and paperwork, but after all their snippy bickering about workflow and priorities, Qrow never did anything more than that.

Towards the end of the week, however, Clover began to catch Qrow indiscreetly observing him. The man lacked tact. Either that or he blatantly chose not to look away when Clover noticed. His red eyes scanning, cataloging, evaluating. Clover felt like he was under a microscope. Though with all the ogling, Qrow would only smirk and walk away, leaving Clover a befuddled mess. He began to wonder if Qrow was all just talk until on the one mission they took alone, things rapidly changed.

Clover had led them through a back alley in search of a Grimm nest when Qrow stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He had no need to ask what Qrow wanted or why they had stopped. Clover knew though he had arched a brow in silent question, the action causing a sinister smirk formed at the corner of Qrow’s lips.

“On your knees, soldier.”

Clover had given plenty of blow jobs during his academy days that it was almost second nature to drop to his knees and meet Qrow’s challenge head-on so to speak. It was only now when Clover was in his office with a blank report sitting open in front of him, did he realize Qrow never ordered Clover to suck him off.

There in the alleyway, he was focused on Qrow, but here at his desk, Clover felt the memories rush through him. He flushed as he recalled his hand on Qrow’s belt, steering him back, pushing him up against the wall, and making sure they were out of sight.

He remembered sinking to his knees, Qrow holding his gaze, chin up not backing down. He remembered unfastening convoluted clothes until he had Qrow hot and hard in his hand, the spine-tingling shivers from Qrow’s aborted attempts to grip his hair, and then the bitter taste of Qrow on his tongue. Clover knew he was good, but Qrow must have been worked up because it had been surprisingly quick work to bring him to the edge and help him over.

Qrow, eyes glazed over and flushed cheeks, tucked himself away when the deed was done. They did not talk to each other after. Instead, choosing to finish their mission in silence while making quick work of the Grimm nest.

A knock at the door pulled Clover from his thoughts, and he called out, “Door’s open.”

He winced, noticing his coarse tone, and hoped whoever was on the other side would not notice. To his dismay, Qrow sauntered in, hands in his pockets and a small knowing smirk on his face. He shut the door behind him and made no announcement as to why he came to Clover’s office of all places.

“Can I help you?” Clover asked, shifting his reading glasses down his nose. He looked over the screen at Qrow, but the man did not respond. Instead, he glanced around Clover’s office with mild interest before taking a turn towards the bookshelf. Clover internally sighed, resigned to his fate of having Qrow pick apart every little trinket adorning the shelves.

He watched as Qrow scanned over pictures of Clover’s academy days where he and Elm stood arm in arm, scenes from the tundra and the local ice fishing competition, and Elm’s family gatherings at a lavish dancehall. There were few placards of recognition as well as his certification from when he graduated from Atlas Academy.

“What, no pictures of family?”

“No family to have pictures of,” Clover replied. “The orphanage didn’t encourage familial bonds, and I don’t consider any of the foster homes after worthy of that distinction.”

“Oh.” Qrow’s contrite look almost made Clover willing to let the jab slide, but the man probably should have known better than to go after family.

“Is there something you need?” Clover asked, letting his exasperation fuel his question.

He felt like Qrow was a circling vulture waiting for the opportune moment. It’s what had Clover on guard all week, at least until what happened in the back alley, and he felt like it was happening again as Qrow crossed the room and circled around his desk. He leaned casually against it, facing Clover before fiddling with the jar of pens and glancing at Clover’s blank screen.

Qrow’s contempt for Atlas was clear in almost every facet of his persona, but when it came to other things, things that were of a more personal matter, Clover was having trouble getting a read on Qrow. They clearly did not mix when it came to organizational structure, but in the field where skill and ability were of the utmost importance, they had a mutual understanding of doing whatever it takes to come out the other side.

“Just here to check up on the report,” Qrow said, breaking Clover’s musing.

“Really? I didn’t take you for enjoying paperwork.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure this one got all the details right.”

“Is that so?” Clover asked, not letting his eyes drop to Qrow’s waist when the man shifted his hips. “And what details are those?”

“Do you need a review?”

“I don’t know. I think my contribution brought the mission to completion rather quickly,” Clover taunted, leaning back in his chair. He spread his legs just wide enough to draw Qrow’s attention there. “Your skills, however, remain to be evaluated.”

“That so?” Qrow asked, shifting his weight back. He eyed the unmistakable bulge.

“If I recall-” Clover hesitated as Qrow shifted forward off the desk. In one smooth motion, he was under it, nestling himself between Clover’s open knees. Clover’s mind blanked, not following how Qrow even got under there without disturbing anything on top let alone so quietly. Before Clover could gather his thoughts, Qrow was at his belt nimble fingers unfastening with a speed Clover did not think possible.

Cool hands pulled him free, and as his blood flowed south it also rushed through his ears, creating a cacophony of noise in his head where he struggled to pull together his scrambled thoughts. The only one that did find hold before Qrow went any further was that maybe this was how it started in the alleyway inasmuch as Clover did not think Qrow would respond to his taunt so willingly, but he did not have time to dwell on that thought because a wet heat enveloped him, and all his mental effort went towards not making a sound.

Clover did not dare look down. The sound and feel of Qrow alone already had him rocketing towards an abrupt end, and so he took every means he had to not make that happen.

The blank report could be used as a distraction, but Clover could not get his eyes to focus on the flickering screen. With several heavy blinks, he pulled his gaze away and cast them about the room in search of something to hold his waning attention. Glancing at the door, he noted its locked position. Qrow must have planned on something happening between them before he entered Clover’s office if he had the wherewithal to lock the door behind him.

A moan from under the desk had Clover startling not just at the sound but also the feel, and he did the one thing he had been trying so desperately not to do. He glanced down. Vibrant red eyes met his, and there was no way he was ever going to be able to look away. Qrow’s capabilities had him entranced, eyes locked on lips and flushed cheeks. Clover tried so desperately to hold on, but he was fighting a losing battle.

Qrow pulled back with a smirk at the corner of his mouth, and the sight of his glossy red lips sent Clover over the edge. With a soft grunt, he came, spurting across Qrow’s bottom lip and up the side of his cheekbone.

Shame washed over Clover as he reached for the box of tissues kept at the corner of his desk for those who often struggled with Atlas’ freezing temps. Grabbing a sheet, Clover went to clean up his mess, but Qrow plucked the tissue from his hand. In a daze, he watched Qrow wipe away the evidence of what they had done with ease. Clover never planned on using these in this manner.

“Well,” Qrow said, balling up the tissue and depositing it into the small trashcan next to him. The rasp in his voice was a lot thicker than before. “I think you should have a better understanding of my skills with that handy review.”

“Yeah,” Clover faintly replied, pushing his chair way to let him out from under the desk. Qrow, with as much grace as one could muster in a situation like this, pulled himself up using Clover’s knees for balance.

“Captain,” he said in the same taunting manner that had gotten them in this position.

“Huntsman Branwen,” Clover admonished.

Qrow snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets, and sauntered towards the door. A familiar rap broke the tension in the room. Qrow quickly unlocked and pulled open the door.

Elm stood there with a blank expression and a stack of papers in hand. She gave both men a scrutinizing look before stepping aside and letting Qrow pass.

“Come in, Elm,” Clover called out, still trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. He hoped she would be distracted by her paperwork to notice his harried state.

She strode in, shuffling her papers, and stopped at the front of his desk instead of taking her customary seat.

“Is there anywhere I don’t want to sit?” She asked pointedly.

“What?” Clover asked.

“Well, Qrow just left, and you look more sprightly than usual.”

His shoulders dropped, and he let out a defeated sigh. “Elm, no.”

“So, it wasn’t on the chairs then?”

“If you’re implying that we had sex,” he said in an attempt to lead her astray.

“Oh, I’m not implying, Clover,” Elm said, cutting in before he could continue. “I know you did. You’ve got that stupid look on your face.”

He cleared his throat and conceded, “It wasn’t on the chairs.”

“Ah, your desk then?”

Clover flushed. “I will admit to nothing.”

She flopped down onto the chair across from him with a defeated groan. “Come on, Clover. You’re supposed to give me the deets. I need to know what’s going on. You’ve been stiff about working with him since the mines. Did something happen?”

“No, I just learned somethings, and he caught on to the fact that the General wanted me to shadow him.”

“Is he manipulating you?” She asked, worry lacing her tone.

“Nothing I don’t want to do,” Clover replied airily.

“Clover.”

“Okay, so he may have figured out that I was attracted to him, and much like the reports say, he likes to antagonize Atlas Military.”

Elm laughed. “Bit off more than you can chew there, cowboy?”

“Stop.”

“He like to take bites from you?”

“Elm,” he chastised with a drawn-out sigh.

Her teasing smile dropped, and she leveled him an assessing gaze. “How close was I in my assessment of him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is the asshole all a front?”

Clover sighed. However brief their conversation in the mines was, Clover knew Qrow’s semblance played a larger part in how he presented himself. What Clover was struggling with was how much to tell her. Qrow’s business was his own, and it would do nothing to gossip about it.

“Yes and no,” Clover said, finally settling on as vague of an answer he could give. “He is an asshole, but I think there is a lot more to it than that, so you’re not too far off the mark.”

“Spying or something else?”

“Most likely both.”

“Semblance?”

Clover gave her a pointed look. He hated when Elm used her interrogation skills on him. She knew him too well and was quick to read between the lines, and he knew he could not stop her from putting the pieces together.

“Passive like yours?” She asked.

Looking to the side, Clover swallowed thickly. She was going to keep pressing until he gave her something. “This doesn’t leave here because I don’t think his is exactly on record, but uh.” He paused, trying to formulate how he wanted to say this. There was no tactful way he realized, and much like Qrow himself, just stated it plainly. “Misfortune.”

Elm stared at him in disbelief and let out a low whistle through her teeth. “Wow, what are the odds?”

Clover nodded in agreement though he was still struggling with the concept himself.

“How does it work?” She asked, sitting forward in her chair.

“I don’t know,” Clover groused. “We didn’t have a conversation about it. I barely know the guy.”

“ _I barely know the guy,”_ she said, rolling her eyes at him. “Yet you’ve given each other blowjobs.”

Clover sputtered, “H-how do you figure that’s what happened?”

“Didn’t. You just confirmed it though.”

“No, I was asking you a question, not stating a fact.”

“Uh-huh, and yet it’s the truth.”

Clover grumbled, trying to think quickly of a way to get out of the awkward conversation. He glanced at his watch and thanked his luck.

“I’ve got a meeting with the General in thirty,” Clover said, giving Elm a stern look.

“And I’ve got a date with Harriet,” she quipped back.

“No, you don’t. You’re just going to gossip about me.”

“That may be true, but at least we have a bottle of wine.” She stood and dropped her stack of papers on his desk. “Don’t let the General catch wind.”

“I thought you said I was well within the bounds of pursuing something if I wished?”

Elm snorted. “Doesn’t mean he’s not going to be mad his best operative is, hm, being corrupted.”

“Please, what I do in my off-hours is my own business.”

“Off hours,” she said with a wave of her hand motioning to the office around them.

“Oh, shut up. Go gossip with Harriet. You can tell her my mind was blown.”

“Well, your dick certainly was.”

He threw his pen at her as she hurried off, the door snapping closed behind her leaving Clover in an uneasy quiet. He looked between the stack of papers and the blank report still open on his screen. A rush of anxiety and trepidation surged through his being. He scrunched his eyes closed and twisted lips before letting the tension go with a short exhale. There was no time to dwell on propriety and the things he had done; he had a report to finish.


	7. Chapter 7

“Status update?”

“On?” Clover had just covered Amity’s scheduling conflicts and supply missions, what more could the General want.

The look the General gave him through the screen was nothing short of critical. “Qrow.”

“Oh.” Clover flushed and struggled to come up with an answer that would satisfy the General. “Uh, nothing new to report.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Clover would normally agree, but his brain kept envisioning himself in some back alleyway on his knees with hands running through his hair trying to grasp a hold as he sucked Qrow down. He would not be sharing those updates with anyone. In an attempt to shift his train of thought before it got out of hand, his mind went to usual thoughts of drivel office work, but the image of Qrow nestled between his knees looking up at him with glistening lips had Clover straining to keep composure.

Clover glanced back at General Ironwood and noticed the man was focused on the screen instead of his poorly timed mental checkout. He cleared his throat, hoping to regain some dignity while coming up with a suitable answer.

“It’s just he hasn’t done anything that would warrant an update. Unless you want me to tell you about his bathroom habits? I felt like that is unnecessary and a little more than intrusive.”

“He hasn’t made any loud disruptions at the bars?”

“No,” Clover said, shaking his head.

“Well, if the man wants to drink in secret, then that’s his right to privacy.”

Clover knew that statement did not feel right, but he did not know enough about Qrow to refute it. They had not talked much, and now that Clover thought about it, they had not talked at all really. The handful of missions they had taken were with the other teams, and the one they did take alone started with a blow job in a back alleyway. Those things were not exactly conversation starters.

“Has his, hmm, habit of antagonizing my soldiers gotten out of hand?”

“As far as I know, and I’ve been paired with him for most missions he’s taken, he hasn’t done anything untoward to any ranking officials. He’s kept mostly to himself and the kids.”

“Doesn’t mean he is not seeking it elsewhere,” Ironwood tersely replied under his breath.

Clover fought to keep his face neutral, however, he could not keep the words back. “I’m of the opinion that what he does in his off time is his business, General. As long as it doesn’t interfere with our operations here, no?”

The General gave him a long, calculating look and then moved on, “Well, you’ve been partnered with him. How has working in the field been?”

“Excellent,” Clover responded with forthright certainty, happy to not be analyzing Qrow’s extracurricular activities. “He is a skilled huntsman, and our styles blend quite seamlessly.”

“Good, I’m glad you two are working well together. I’ve heard Qrow never felt at home with the tribe he was raised in, so I figured your similar backgrounds would help bridge the gap, so to speak.”

“Tribe?”

“Ah, he hasn’t mentioned the bandit tribe?”

“No sir, we don’t really discuss personal information while on missions.”

“Oh.”

The exhale was short and clipped, and Clover quickly picked up on the General’s disappointment. He worked his jaw and tried to piece together what the General was inferring, but he could not begin to understand why the information had Ironwood dismayed.

“I had hoped he’d let his guard down even if just a little around you.”

“Sir, you ordered me to keep an eye on him. I don’t think he took too kindly to that,” Clover said vehemently, the trajectory of their conversation blindsiding him, “And even if he were to let it pass and let his guard down, I don’t think we would be discussing our childhoods.”

“I had just hoped giving him an outlet or someone he could relate to would help him settle in here in Atlas,” Ironwood said, slumping back in his chair.

“He doesn’t seem like the person to settle, and besides there are better ways to help people get acclimated to new areas. Your orders probably made him feel like you were spying on him rather than helping him out because if we’re being honest, I thought you wanted me to spy on him, not help him adjust to being here in Atlas.”

“Well, I- I don’t know what I wanted. He’s always been a pain in my side in some form or fashion. I just thought you keeping an eye on him would mitigate any issues. I don’t need whatever he gets up to interfering with our timeline at Amity.”

“Amity will be on track no matter what chaos Qrow could attempt to sow.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Clover.”

“James, there haven’t been any issues with him or the kids since they got here. In fact, I would say their help will push Amity’s timeline up. We could expect it to be operable within the coming month, well ahead of schedule.”

“Your right,” he replied, rubbing at his forehead. “There are just a lot of moving parts, and adding Qrow to the mix has kind of put me on edge. I don’t want you to completely ignore him, but don’t feel obligated to watch his every move.”

“Alright, but if you’re concerned about him, you could check in on him yourself. I hear that helps acclimate people.”

The sharp and anxious edge the General held throughout their meeting dropped in an instant, and in its place remained a tired James Ironwood. “If you’re going to be snarky, you can leave, unless you have something else to report?”

 _Reports_. Clover’s mind went to the half-finished report he left at his desk in order to get to this meeting on time. “Nope, I’ll just be going now,” he said, seeing himself out of James’ office before he got himself into serious trouble.

~~~

Over the week that followed his meeting with the General, Clover felt more and more comfortable engaging in things with Qrow, especially since his time with the man felt less like gathering intel and more like a game of cat and mouse, but it was not until the third time they stumbled into some out of the way room did Clover think about putting up boundaries.

“Okay, we have got to set some ground rules before this gets out of hand,” Clover said, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to will his heart rate to lower.

“Like it hasn’t gotten out of hand? You’re the one who pushed me into the storage room.” Qrow said, buckling his belt and readjusting his vest. They had tumbled into the storage room just minutes after the morning assignments had been handed out. Clover made quick work of Qrow’s attire, and the rest was history.

“You’re the one who was staring at me during the debriefing,” he tersely replied, watching Qrow put himself back together. The smirk Qrow flashed in his direction made it clear the man knew what he was doing, but it did nothing to quell the unease Clover felt rising in him. He needed structure.

“So, ground rules.” He crossed his arms and blocked the way to the exit. Qrow turned to face him, eyes scrutinizing.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Qrow said. He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What’d you got?”

Thinking about Qrow biting was not a place his train of thought needed to go. Clover schooled his face and focused on the short list he thought through before jumping Qrow again. “No kissing.” 

Qrow glanced away, pondering over the point Clover had brought up, and Clover desperately want to know what he was thinking but asking was a move he did not want to take.

“Fine, can I ask why?” Qrow pressed.

“We are not hormonal teenagers.” To Clover, kissing was an act for more intimate relationships, and doing so with someone who was essentially a hookup felt strange. “And I’m here to relieve stress, or whatever you want to call it,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Kissing is just-”

“Too intimate. Got it.”

“Yeah.”

For all their earlier energy, a strained silence fell between them. Though with the awkward air, Clover could tell Qrow was taking the time to think over what Clover brought attention to. Clover waited, deciding to give Qrow the space to suggest his own boundary. He relaxed his shoulders and tried to calm his still racing heart.

“I don’t really care to get to know you,” Qrow said, meeting Clover’s gaze. “I-I mean like the comradery sense. Jimmy wants everyone to work like a well-oiled machine, but that’s in the field. Whatever we’re doing here doesn’t need to go past physical.”

Clover nodded. Comradery led to understanding and strengthened bonds which would lead to attachment. The less they knew about each other the better. Besides, the few conversations he had with Qrow rubbed Clover the wrong way. He would rather spend his time exploring Qrow’s body instead of having a conversation with him. Now, with the idea that they were going to continue what they were doing, Clover felt inclined to clarify how far he was willing to go.

“My time is limited. Blow jobs and the like are quick and easy; anything more and the prep and cleanup process becomes too involved.”

Clover knew with forethought that problem could be rectified but then that would mean planning, and something about that act made what they were going to continue doing more intimate. Fooling around with Qrow was one thing. Purposely setting aside time to fuck each other felt personal. There was no way he was inviting Qrow back to his quarters. That boundary, when crossed, shifted into something more, something that should probably be named and not used as stress relief. 

“Quick and easy,” Qrow said, eyes raking over Clover. Being gawked at like that felt salacious, and Clover felt a rush of adrenaline scorch through his body. “Are you sure no…”

Qrow curled his tongue in a fashion that had Clover’s knees weakening under a flood of images; his desk and a locked door floated to the forefront of his mind. He blinked heavily, his gaze refusing to move from Qrow’s mouth, and he struggled to form coherent words, “As- as long as it’s quick and easy.”

Qrow snorted.

“Quick and easy,” he said, patting Clover on the shoulder as he swept past him. He exited the storage room as if he had meant to be in there all along and left Clover alone with swirling thoughts of what they had just agreed to.

Clover sagged against the bare wall, knocking his head back, and decided to wait a few minutes before doing his own walk of shame back to his office. He hoped no one would be the wiser of his clandestine meeting with Qrow.


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, their constructed parameters in no way slowed them down. Every moment Clover had free Qrow was there, and in a way, there was a nonsensical part of Clover’s brain that thought, _‘if Qrow’s too busy doing me, he doesn’t have time to cause chaos elsewhere’_. Missions and debriefings became particularly difficult because Qrow would get a glint in his eyes, and Clover knew whenever they got alone next things would happen. 

They found out of the way corners to give each other hand jobs. They visited alleys during solo missions, recreating the very act that got them to where they were now. Not to mention Clover’s office, which if Qrow had his way would never be used to fill out paperwork again.

In the beginning, Clover found it easy to keep himself emotionally distanced. When Ironwood first had given the directive to watch Qrow, Clover approached the relationship with an understanding of orders first. Qrow’s posturing helped quell any profound interest, and his aloof attitude made him seem indifferent and uninterested to the world around him. His _it’ll burn to the ground anyway, so might as well let it_ approach grated against Clover’s long-held belief of doing whatever one can for the greater good.

However, as Clover spent many a mission with Qrow, he started to see past the cynical nature and found that the man’s heart was in no way unburdened. They never talked about anything deeper than mission updates and potential corners they could duck into, but those things did not stop Clover from watching and listening and absorbing all who Qrow was.

Qrow cared for the kids, he worried about Salem’s plans, and though he clearly did not like how Atlas was run, he was concerned about its citizens and took extra missions to make sure Grimm were cleared off the streets in Mantle. Qrow had his opinions about Atlas Military, but he still cordially worked with individuals he was assigned with.

Understanding Qrow terrified Clover because what came next would be the want to know more, the need to unravel the enigma of Qrow Branwen. In some small ways, Clover feared losing the connection if he chose to cross the line they made all those weeks ago and push for more, for knowledge of who Qrow was, for anything other than the cold shoulder and warm body.

Clover’s opportunity came soon enough though, in the form of a supply mission to Amity, which called for extra personnel since the Happy Huntresses commandeered a few trucks. He usually left these missions to the other Ace-Ops but Qrow had wanted to join Ruby on the trek, so he found himself making the long slog out to Amity’s launch site in the back of the truck.

He and Qrow had avoided the long-haul missions in favor of quick search and destroy objectives. Cover figured it was so they could fool around once they completed their task, but he quickly realized it was so he would not be confined inside a supply truck with Qrow for hours on end. The man was a menace, and with no distraction, except for the cards Clover conveniently brought, things were sure to get out of hand.

“I win again,” Clover said, setting his hand down on the crate between them. “Maybe we should call it quits?”

“Shut up and deal,” Qrow groused back.

Clover laughed and gathered up the cards to shuffle them. It had been happenstance that he grabbed the deck before leaving, but now he could not thank his luck enough. The distraction kept the ever-mounting tension between them at bay since he did not want it to bubble over in the back of the truck with the kids around.

“Your niece sure is one of a kind, huh?” Clover asked. He tried to keep his tone light and airy, hoping Qrow would not notice his attempt at pushing the boundary of their rules.

“They all are. Been through a lot together,” Qrow said, latching on to the change in topic.

Clover noticed the genuine pride behind those words and remembered back when the ragtag group had first arrived. Qrow had been their guardian, flitting around the edge of the group, ensuring their safety and lending assistance when needed. It was an image of the man Clover held close to his chest, and he wondered how Qrow was handling the kids gaining a little independence when they acquired their licenses.

“It’s a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky,” Clover said as he delt the cards yet again.

“I don’t know about all that,” Qrow said, eyes following Clover’s hands. “Thanks, by the way. For looking out for ‘em. You and your team.”

“What good is saving the world without another generation waiting in the wings? Hopefully, they’ll leave Remnant better than we left it for them.” Clover said, sliding the cards to Qrow.

A smile cracked across Qrow’s face and he inclined his head in Clover’s direction. “Once upon a time, I’d have drank to that.”

 _Would have._ It took a moment for Clover’s thoughts to catch up to him, and then for them to come crashing down again. Qrow said would have, which meant the man was not drinking anymore. No matter how much the General pressed that Qrow still was, Clover did not want to make assumptions, and now he got his confirmation that Qrow was not drinking. Trying not to draw more attention than needed to Qrow’s admission, Clover settled on letting Qrow know how much influence and care he had on those around him.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know,” he said, giving Qrow a long look.

“Don’t worry, I-I gave that up,” Qrow replied. He kept his gaze fixated on his cards, organizing them how he wanted.

Clover internally sighed. This man could be infuriating sometimes. When Qrow glanced back up, Clover gave him a pointed look, knowing he struggled to keep the heat from his gaze. “I _meant_ deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn’t be where they are without you. You’ve had more of an effect on them than you realize.” 

The sly smile he got in return sounded off alarms in his mind, and Clover felt a flood of warmth rush through his body. Qrow dropped his gaze. The hint of a blush rested high on his cheeks, and he rubbed at the side of his head. If they did not have the card game and the kids in the front, Clover would be tempted to cross the low crates between them and show the man just how much of an effect he had on people.

“Uh, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby called from the front of the truck, breaking the tension between them. Clover let out a sigh of relief. He turned and got up to look at what Ruby was drawing their attention to. Low and behold, the very Happy Huntresses they were having disputes with chose this truck as their next target. With a plan devised on how to approach them, Clover, Qrow, and Ruby disembarked and faced Robyn. The confrontation was tense, but with Penny’s aid, they got the Huntresses to back off.

"That was a close one,” Qrow said when they climbed back into the truck.

“You’re telling me,” Clover replied, following behind. He settled in place ready to deal a new round of cards, but Qrow did not take the spot across from him. “What are you doing?” Qrow smirked, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Penny monitors everyone’s vitals. I am not about to have her question what’s going on back here.”

“All right, boy scout,” Qrow said. He backed off and took his place on the other side of the crate. “Next time.”

Clover shuffled the cards and thought If he scheduled them for a supply mission alone, then there would be ample opportunity for them to explore what next time meant.


	9. Chapter 9

Taking supply missions became a regular thing for them after their conversation in the truck. The General cleared having less personnel on the route since they were both capable Huntsman, but the main factor for Clover and Qrow was the opportunity to be alone together.

Clover felt, in some ways, if they kept their fucking during supply missions only, then the act would not be as intimate. However, with all the extra time alone, Qrow started pushing the boundaries they had agreed to when it came to sex. Instead of rushed hand jobs, it was hours of him wanting to take Clover apart, to figure out sensitive areas and push buttons Clover did not know he had. It was safe to say, adjusting to the onslaught that was Qrow Branwen took Clover several days. 

Eventually, they slowed, and time crept in, and the barrier between them shifted. Though they did not delve into their respective pasts right away, Qrow did slowly start showing softer sides to himself when they were out on missions. Whether it was amicably talking about the kid’s growth or casual conversation about the day, the layers of contempt Qrow and Clover held against each other melted away, and Clover started looking forward to their supply runs for reasons other than sex.

Clover would not say they were friends, only that they were cordial. Partners who knew how to work in the field, relax on the way back, and then part ways when the day was over. They just had the added benefit of their unofficial agreed-upon terms to their relationship, which they took advantage of frequently in the back of the truck.

No one was the wiser, and Clover planned to keep it that way. At least until Grimm sightings pick up and Amity got hit in the process.

“I just don’t see how him being there makes this his fault,” Clover said resolutely. He had been arguing in circles with General Ironwood for the past ten minutes. Amity had hit a minor setback while he and Qrow had been out on a supply mission to the launch site. They had been fooling around when a herd of manticore attacked, damaging several key components vital to launching the arena.

Clover knew if they had been ready faster, then the damage could have been limited, but for now, he would have to deal with the consequence and an irate General.

“If I find out his drinking or lack of care has anything to do-”

“From what I can see, he hasn’t been drinking,” Clover said, cutting the General off. Ironwood’s steely glare could freeze over any insubordination, but Clover’s resolve to see Qrow for the person he was now held out. “And you know he cares. He has put in the effort to change, and I know you’ve seen it. The real problem here is the Grimm. Last I checked, he does not control them. They showed up out of nowhere and made a targeted attack. His past behavior has nothing to do with the delay, James.”

“I’ve known him longer than you, Captain. Don’t make the mistake of letting him fool you into thinking he’s made steps forward.” Ironwood’s blasé dismissal of facts Clover knew to be true rankled his nerves. The General usually took his advice in stride, amending long-held opinions under the new point of view, but Ironwood barreled on, “The rest of the Ace Ops will continue to watch over the kids, but since I trust him less than the kids, I want you shadowing him. If anything comes to light, let me know immediately.”

Clover held his tongue, knowing it was not his place to push the General further.

“Yes, sir,” Clover replied smoothly.

“You’re dismissed.”

He snapped a salute and left the General’s office. With a heavy heart and anger at what the General implied, he stormed off towards his quarters, hoping to be able to take a break before continuing his day.

Halfway there, the subject of his argument strolled around the corner. Any other time Clover would think it comical the way Qrow froze in the middle of the hall, eyebrows raised and eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Right now though, all Clover could do was let out an exaggerated sigh. He had not planned on facing Qrow so soon after he argued with James.

Qrow’s telltale smirk dropped, and he approached with trepidation before falling into step beside Clover.

“What’s got you all… ruffled?” He asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“A meeting with General Ironwood,” Clover replied truthfully. He might as well get some of his frustrations off his chest, and if Qrow wanted to be a willing participant, then he was not going to complain. 

“Ah, what’d good ol’ Jimmy want this time?”

“Classified,” Clover said. He inclined his head in Qrow’s direction. “But manticore related.”

Qrow gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “When is it ever not classified? And is he really that upset about the manticore attack?”

“Furious. I think he’s more stressed than he’s letting on. I know the attack was only a minor setback, but he seems set on it being a problem.”

“Ah, so he thinks it’s my fault,” Qrow surmised.

“That’s not-”

“I’m not stupid Clover. I know he and I have our differences. Water under the bridge.”

Clover frowned. There were some things he could let slide, but since getting to know Qrow a little better, this was not one of them. He felt annoyed that he did not know how to voice his frustration over the issue.

“Is that what’s got you in this mood?” Qrow asked, raising a brow.

“You don’t know what he said, Qrow. You … you’ve done a lot to get to where you are-”

“And I’m not about to let Jimmy’s moods dictate mine, so you need to stop stressing about it,” Qrow said. He sighed and assessed Clover. “Anything I can do to relieve some of that stress?”

The eyebrow waggle he gave Clover looked ridiculous, but it eased some of the tension Clover held in his shoulders.

“We probably shouldn’t while on duty.” Qrow’s shoulders dropped at the admission. Looking back on it, fooling around while on duty had been risky, so if they wanted to continue what they were doing, they needed to change a few things. “But I’m headed to my quarters for a break.”

Qrow’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and he took a faltering step forward. “You sure about that?” He asked, clearly catching on to what Clover was suggesting they do.

“I am if you are,” Clover replied plainly.

“Alright, lead the way, boy scout.”


	10. Chapter 10

With the new agreed-upon arrangement, Clover could separate Qrow from work, and in the following weeks, they became accustomed to the strange balance between using Clover’s personal space and keeping their emotional distance. Qrow would never stay longer than needed, and Clover made sure not to push for personal information.

Their missions out to Amity were spent bolstered with variations of the kid’s teams or the Ace Ops. Grimm attacks became more prominent, and the election was quickly coming to a head. Everyone was on edge, and in a rare show of gratitude, General Ironwood gave the fledgling Huntsman and Huntresses the night of the election results to do as they pleased.

The Ace-Ops thankfully got lumped in with the rest and got a well-deserved break. Clover decided to take the time to catch up on some reading and found himself sequestered in his quarters, book in hand and a strong cup of tea at the ready. Being alone in his quarters felt strange without Qrow’s snide remarks, but as his book gained his attention, all thoughts of Qrow’s distracting nature fell away.

The pace of the story kept him captivated so much so that it took him several confusing moments to realize the frantic knock at his door was not his imagination. Clover, pulling himself from the depths of the pages, leapt to his feet and scrambled to the door. He had not been expecting anyone at this hour, let alone the person he found on the other side.

“Qrow?” Clover questioned, surprised to see the man here unplanned. It took Clover a moment to recognize the frantic look in Qrow’s eye, but once he did, he swung the door wide open to let him in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing major. It’s just… I just left Jimmy’s office,” Qrow said, striding in. He did not go to the couch like Clover thought he would but instead paced back and forth in front of the coffee table. Clover wondered what drove Qrow to his place without any preamble, but his answer came in the frantic tapping of Qrow’s foot to the way his eyes darted around the room, never focusing on one place.

“He pisses me off so much I just want to-” Qrow said, letting out an anguished cry and clutching his hands around empty air.

“I thought you weren’t going to let him dictate your moods,” Clover said, going to the couch to mark his place in his book before turning his full attention on Qrow.

“It’s a lot different when he says it to my face,” Qrow said. His shoulder’s drooped and he finally looked at Clover. “When I got like this I used to drink. I would drink so much, but I…” He swallowed. “Not any….”

Clover felt his heart leap into his throat at Qrow’s admission. “What do you need from me?”

Qrow stopped still and shot him a panicked look. “I don’t know. I’m not really, uh…”

“A different distraction then,” Clover offered. He strode over to his coat rack and grabbed his hooded vest. “Come on, I know just the place.”

It had been some time since he had gone out in civilian clothes and visited his go-to spot to catch a break, but with Qrow so on edge, now was as good as any to stop by his hidden sanctuary. He led Qrow through the housing quarters and out onto the streets of Atlas.

The usual hustle and bustle that came with night remained subdued because of the election, and so they walked in silence; Clover not wanting to push Qrow for casual conversation, and Qrow, with his eyes on the ground and hands in his pockets, determined not to think about the bottom of a drink. A few winding streets later, Clover directed Qrow down a shining avenue of dance halls. Loud orchestral music spilled out the open doors into the thoroughfare, a jarring difference to their earlier quiet.

Qrow cleared his throat. “I’m not really…”

“Not there,” Clover said, ignoring the main entrances in favor of a side alley. He knew Qrow would not want to mingle with Atlas aristocrats, especially on this night, but Clover could not pass up one of his favorite places in the city in the sky. “Come on.”

The alleyway twisted and narrowed till it came to a single rickety fire escape. Clover made the small leap with ease to pull the ladder down. It rumbled and creaked from years of disuse, and Clover made sure it was secure before he started his ascent to the first landing.

“I didn’t think you were for breaking and entering?” Qrow jibbed, watching Clover with an apprehension contrasting his usual mischief-making. Of all the times he could grow a conscious, it would be now. 

“We’re not quite doing that here,” Clover replied, leaning over the short railing. “And it’s not like that’s stopped you in the past.”

Qrow grumbled, grasping the first rung, and pulled himself up after Clover. “Still trespassing.”

“Not if you know the owner,” Clover said, heading up the stairs to the top of the building. The clack underfoot brought Clover back to a time well before the Military where he was much younger where he did not carry the stress of Atlas’ renown on his shoulders. As much as he spurned his childhood and early Academy years, he could not help remembering a simpler time, or an idealized one if he really thought over it.

“Really? I feel like I should be surprised but-” The rest of Qrow’s sentence faltered when they reached the top landing. There before them, not too dissimilar to what Clover remembered, stood a glass greenhouse.

Though it did not stand as majestically as it had in the past, what with the fogged and dirty glass stained from years of disuse, it still held a certain charm. A sliver of calm and respite in a bustling city high in the sky.

Clover took a step forward towards the door. The metal had rusted over, making it difficult to open quietly. Nonetheless, Clover wedged it open, allowing them to slip through.

Music emanated through the area as they wandered past half-empty pots and skeletons of dead plants towards the skylight showing the hall below. The railing that surrounded the fixture had aged with the greenhouse, looking rickety and unstable.

“I wouldn’t put my full weight against that. It’ll probably break,” Clover warned, watching Qrow lean over the edge of the railing to get a better look below.

“You’re here to catch me. Aren’t you, boy scout?”

Clover rolled his eye but could not help the smile at Qrow’s teasing.

“Still, I’d rather you not fall through and startle everyone below,” Clover said, looking down at the large number of dancers whipping around a dance floor.

Recognition lit Qrow’s eyes as he gazed down below. “Elm wouldn’t happen to have any relation to the owner, would she?”

“Her relatives,” Clover replied. He glanced around the room, cataloging every change over the years. “This greenhouse has been out of use ever since her grandmother passed away, but I still like to come up here though. It reminds me of the few happy memories growing up.”

He left Qrow by the skylight and made his way to a small tea table. A familiar but weathered chessboard sat atop the table. A game would be a good distraction.

“Are you up for something different?” Clover asked, taking a seat. He started to sort through the scattered pieces, dismayed that several were missing. He would have to improvise.

Qrow gave him a flat look. “Chess was never really my thing; besides, you don’t even have all the pieces.” 

“Bah, that shouldn’t stop us.” Clover grabbed a dented bottle cap that lay on the table beside the chessboard. He placed the piece on an empty knight space.

“Is it supposed to take the place of the knight?” Qrow asked.

“Of course.”

Qrow snorted, rolling his eyes, and started setting up his own pieces. “I say in ten minutes you’re going to have forgotten what that piece does.”

“Is that a bet?”

They both gathered odds and ends from the shelving dotted around the greenhouse to supplement their missing pieces, and then sat down across from one another, Clover with assured confidence and Qrow with a world-weary acceptance. The game started slowly both testing each other waiting for a guard to slip.

“You seem just fine at strategy,” Clover said after a fraught minute of evading Qrow’s aggressive tactics.

“Well, I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t think you were. You just didn’t seem too interested in playing.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “I like to play video games. More varied and comes with lore.”

“History nerd?”

Qrow chuckled, moving a pawn forward. “Somewhat.”

“I enjoy the simulator games over strategy or fighting,” Clover said, thinking over his next move. If Qrow took the moves Clover hoped he would, he was sure he could box Qrow into a corner with no escape.

“Please don’t tell me you play that farming one,” Qrow groused, laying his head down on his elbow. He watched Clover with quiet anticipation. Clover was unsure if it was in relation to him deciding on his next move or if Qrow really wanted to know about his video game interests.

Clover grinned at Qrow and moved his bishop across several spaces, taking a pawn. He then said, “And the one with the little animal villagers.”

“Somehow I find that fitting. Check,” Qrow said, sliding a rusted bolt across the board.

Clover squinted down at the play in suspicion. He was sure he had not left himself so open. “Are you sure that’s a castle piece?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“Yes. I know you’re not above cheating. You’ve done it plenty of times when we play cards.”

“Lies and conjecture,” Qrow said, but the smirk on his face stated otherwise.

Even if Qrow wanted to play dirty, Clover could work his way around it. In fact, if he took Qrow’s ‘castle’ with his queen, he would speed up his win by several moves. Unless Qrow decided to change his other pieces too. Clover quickly took Qrow’s piece, arching a brow at the man across him.

Qrow frowned. Hands crossed under his chin, he looked down at the board. “I see what you’re doing, shamrock. I concede.” He lay his king down in defeat.

“Oh, come on, only a few more moves,” Clover jested.

“I don’t need more of your gloating. Besides, it’s getting late, and they’ll be announcing the results soon. I don’t really want to be out here when the inevitable happens.”

Brow furrowing, Clover thought over that implication. “You think Robyn is going to lose?”

“Knowing the shit Jacque gets up to, I have my doubts,” Qrow said, giving him a deadpanned look.

“Well, I can’t say that’s an unfair assessment. Back to the dorms then?” Clover asked, unsure if Qrow still wanted to spend the rest of the evening with him.

“Of course,” he replied. The smile Qrow sent his way had Clover’s heart rocketing to life in his chest.

The entire way back, Clover could feel a buzz under his skin though he could not tell if it was from Qrow’s election prediction or if it was from something else entirely. They laughed together, bumping shoulders and exchanging sly glances on the way back to the Clover’s quarters.

When they reached his door, Clover felt entirely wound up and no place to put the energy. He looked to Qrow, but the words stuck to the back of his throat. Even if he could talk, he did not know what to say. Their evening together had been far more enjoyable than Clover thought possible, and now, with Qrow standing so close with that look in his eyes, Clover’s heart beat a furious rhythm.

Qrow cleared his throat, eyes flicking across Clover’s face before fixating on his lips. Clover’s entire focus pinpointed to that moment, and he could feel every breath he exhaled as Qrow leaned in, closing the distance between them.

The first tentative press felt soft and warm and entirely unlike anything Clover expected from Qrow. Then, fingertips brushed under his shirt, leaving a heated trail of goosebumps, and he found himself clinging to Qrow’s vest as their kiss deepened, desperate for something to ground him.

The process from there was smooth and practiced. They had done this many times with countless iterations: clothes falling to the floor, Qrow pushing him back on the bed, Qrow taking him apart piece by piece, but this time, Qrow’s touch overwhelmed him. The heat of Qrow’s palms as they swept across his skin. The shift and roll of Qrow’s hips as he surrounded Clover and pressed deeper than before.

Everything had Clover struggling to breathe, struggling to hold back the emotion simmering at the edges of his barely coherent thoughts. He could feel it in the air between them, every breath, every soft sigh. The chasm they so carefully constructed began to crumble on his side.

When they finished, Clover lay there, mind racing over the feelings he was struggling to process, caught in between what he wanted and what he first agreed their relationship would be. Qrow rolled to face him, mouth parted and words at the ready, but from across the room, his scroll pinged to life. The obnoxious tune broke their uneasy tension, and instead of saying whatever was on his mind, Qrow rolled out of Clover’s bed and answered the call.

“Yeah,” he gruffly intoned. The unintelligible garble on the other end had Clover straining his ears. “Ruby, slow down.” The call must not have been an emergency because the soft smile at the corner of Qrow’s mouth spread into a genuine grin. “Ok, I’ll be there.”

“Duty calls?” Clover asked.

“Something like that.” Qrow paused, letting his eyes wander over Clover’s form. Clover felt his heart flip at the raw and uncertain gaze. “Uh, I’ll- uh just be going.”

He gathered his clothes, slipped from the room, and left Clover in contemplative quiet. He rolled over, face down in his pillow, and let out a muffled cry. _What did he get himself into?_ He had not allowed himself the luxury of letting someone get so close, especially with the stakes of his job, but with Qrow, he just slipped under the surface till it was too late for Clover to realize just how close the man was and how much he had come to mean. 

Clover wallowed on his soiled sheets for an undetermined amount of time before his own scroll pinged to life. He recognized the ringtone and decided if Elm was calling, then it had to be important. He reluctantly picked the call up and flopped back down on the bed with an exaggerated groan.

“You do realize this is supposed to be a night off,” he said, placing his scroll on speaker. He dropped it next to his head and continued to stare at the ceiling.

“Yup, that’s why I called.” Elm’s voice came out muffled from the bedsheets. “What are you doing right now?”

“Meditating.”

“No, you’re not. You pooped this morning.”

“Elm,” Clover sighed. “There are different types of meditating. Pooping is not one of them. What did you need?”

“Well, the kids suckered us into this video game fight tournament thing.” Muted shouting echoed in the background of the call. Clover smirked, figuring whatever they were doing turned into a rowdy affair. “And they got Qrow to join them. He’s kicking our asses. We need you.”

Clover's heart seized his chest. He did not know if he could see Qrow so soon after his mental and emotional breakdown. Pulling off his composed captain façade would only mask his awkwardness to those that hardly knew him. Elm would know. Qrow might too, if he chose to look.

If he could focus on the kids competing, then he would not have to worry about his newfound confusing feelings and Qrow in the process.

“Give me a minute to get there,” Clover finally said.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clover has a crisis in the midst of socializing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept waffling between keeping it one big chapter or split it, but this one just kept going, so I’ve split them. Next chapter is definitely the last one.

After Elm’s call, it had taken Clover nearly twenty minutes to pull himself together. He passed ten of them staring at the ceiling, wondering if what happened between him and Qrow would just disappear if he decided to examine the lingering nervousness and anxiety that had plagued him the latter half of his evening with Qrow. The other ten were him scrambling about his room gathering clothes and making sure he was presentable to a group of young, influential adolescents.

Clover’s walk to the community room was quiet up until three doorways away. The ruckus astounded him, but he should have figured with the kids’ boundless energy and the Ace-Ops’ competitive spirit, things would get loud. He walked through the open door, steeling himself for the chaos that was sure to come.

Quickly scanning the room, Clover took note of where everyone was situated. The kids were all piled on the couches with Elm and Vine standing just behind the backs. Elm occasionally leaned over, loudly cheering on the two fighters. Vine’s arms were crossed, but his demeanor was nothing like his usual stoic front. Instead, he looked on in interest shouting out encouragement to Harriet, who stood at the front, controller in hand and a grimace on her face.

Qrow stood next to her, shoulders relaxed and a look of steadfast concentration as his character thrashed Harriet’s on the screen. K.O. flashed across the screen in big letters, and Harriet let out an anguished yell, throwing her controller to the ground.

“There’s no fucking way, Branwen! I had that combo down and for you to just parry it so easily-”

“Language, Harriet!” Marrow scolded while pushing her aside to pick up the now-forgotten controller. “It’s my turn.”

Clover sidled up to Elm, making her aware of his presence with a brush of his shoulder against hers. He nodded to her in greeting and then let his gaze focus on Marrow selecting his character.

“What’s up?” Elm asked under her breath.

“Hm?” Clover distractedly hummed. He pulled his gaze away just in time to catch the stern frown Elm directed at him. “What do you mean?”

She snorted and replied quietly to him, “You’re stiff as a board, and you’re trying desperately not to stare at Qrow’s ass. Also, you look like you were just told your dog died.”

“What? I do not,” Clover said. His voice cracked at the end, making him sound less like he had things under control and more like he had things to hide. The look Elm gave him in return conveyed she suspected as much.

“Do I need to kick his ass?”

“No,” Clover replied emphatically. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just-”

A cheer arose from the kids in front of them, drowning out Clover’s response. Qrow had Marrow’s character cornered to one side of the arena, mercilessly wearing down the guard Marrow had up.

“No!” Marrow shouted. “Not like this.”

Qrow methodically countered several big uppercuts from Marrow, and there was a brief second where Clover thought Marrow could land an attack, but Qrow quickly grabbed his character, flinging him to the ground in a finishing move. The screen flashed again, and the Ace-Ops groaned.

“That means you’re up next, Clover,” Vine called out, not picking up on Elm’s side conversation with him.

“Clover’s here!” One of the kids shouted. He could not make out where it came from, but Nora would have been a good guess due to the sheer exuberance behind the words. Everyone’s attention turned towards the back of the couch with an intensity that Clover almost felt the need to cower.

“Yep,” Clover chuckled, trying not to let their enthusiasm overwhelm him. “I’m here.”

“You’re next then. See if you can take Uncle Qrow down!” Ruby shouted, handing Marrow’s controller to him.

“I don’t know if that’ll happen. I don’t have as much experience with fighting games,” Clover said, stepping out from behind the couch. He took the offered controller and then looked to Qrow who’s apprehensive expression gutted Clover. He would not let that dissuade him.

Clover slowly approached, holding his gaze low, and took the empty space next to Qrow. Making sure to keep a reasonable distance between them, he could feel the awkward tension in the air and hoped everyone else was none the wiser.

On-screen, he flicked past character after character entirely undecided on how to approach this. He had no experience with fighting games. Behind him, the kids kept shouting out different characters he should use, but picking one out seemed daunting. Sadly, whoever he selected, Qrow would most likely wipe the floor with him.

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” Clover said.

Patiently watching on, Qrow snorted. “Go for a simple character with a basic move set.”

“You think I know what that is?” Clover exclaimed, ready to go into a full panic over just choosing a character.

“Here.” Qrow’s hands brushed over his, and Clover froze. Qrow took the controller from him, and then rapidly flicked through the options before landing on the character Harriet had played with. “This one’s good to learn with.”

“Right.”

“It’s got a good combo that easy to remember.”

“You are speaking a foreign language to me right now.”

“You’ve played video games before. Just press some buttons.”

“Yeah, but those games are relaxing. This is stressing me out, and I haven’t even played anything yet. And, I have a feeling just _pressing some buttons_ is not going to work against you.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle,” Qrow said, shooting him a smirk.

Clover flushed and struggled to keep his mind focused on the game and not the man beside him as he recalled the heat of Qrow’s skin and the caress of his hands of their most recent coupling. Qrow cleared his throat, holding out the controller for Clover to take. Clover startled and grabbed it, trying not to fumble the exchange. 

“Right.”

And just like, that the match started. Clover knew he was inexperienced but reckoned he would be able to figure out a few moves. Now, however, with Qrow’s character bearing down on him, he was having a hard time getting his fingers to do what he wanted. The buttons felt like they were not doing anything substantial, and getting the timing down for a counter was difficult, yet his match did not end as quickly as Marrow’s or Harriet’s.

“You’re going easy on me, aren’t you?” He asked Qrow.

“I said I would be gentle,” Qrow replied, keeping his eyes on the screen. “If you hit the counter button when I do my cross, you should be able to time it right to parry the attack.”

Clover followed Qrow’s advice, making sure to follow the tells of Qrow’s character. He tapped the button just in time and countered Qrow’s attack. However, he did not know how to follow up the move, and instead backed off, allowing Qrow to take advantage.

“Uncle Qrow! Stop antagonizing Clover. He doesn’t deserve your ire!” Ruby shouted from the couch. The rest chimed in as well, their excuses overlapping and drowning each other out.

“Yeah, you’ve defeated us all. Time to give it a rest,” Harriet called out from where she stood next to Elm.

“Alright, alright.” And in quick succession, Qrow cornered Clover’s character, whittling the health bar down in massive chunks.

“Oh no!” Clover said as his character died. “I really had no clue what I was doing though, so I wouldn’t say it was the fairest fight.”

“That’s settled then!” Nora said. “Our battle of the best needs an even playing field. To the ping pong table!”

“No house rules since we’re not at home!” Ruby shouted, taking off in the direction of the table games.

“Fine, fine, but that also means no semblances,” Qrow said. He placed his controller down and made sure to shut off the screen be for following them. “You have to beat me fair and square.”

“The only one who could make it a fair game is Clover since your semblances are passive,” Yang said, walking behind Qrow. She poked her uncle in the side, earning her a squawk in protest. Clover smiled at their interaction. He always enjoyed watching Qrow with his nieces. They brought much-needed levity to a weary world.

Elm pulled up beside him and gave his shoulder a bump with hers to gain his attention. He raised a brow in question, but she looked away from him and cast her attention on Qrow and the kids.

“It’s obvious something happened between you two,” Elm said, crossing her arms. Qrow was in the process of folding out the ping pong table while the kids were sorting through the paddles. A ping pong ball shot across the room in their direction. Clover ducked just in time as it whizzed past his head.

“And how do you figure that?” Clover asked. _So much for being subtle about it._

“He’s trying so hard not to look at you, but when does, he makes this forlorn face,” She said, mimicking the expression. Her eyes wide and sorrowful, lips slightly pouted.

“That is not-“

“Yes, it is,” Elm said, laughing. She calmed under his stern expression. “So, tell me what happened?”

“Not here,” Clover hissed under his breath, their mini discussion getting cut short with Ruby’s approach. She bowed, holding out a ping pong paddle to Clover like she was bestowing some great relic upon him.

“Here you go, sir,” She said with a level of theatrics he never really understood but was willing to play a part in.

“I shall do my best,” Clover said, taking the paddle in his left hand. He spun the handled around before grasping it resolutely. Giving a nod to Elm, he made his way to the ping pong table where Qrow stood, paddle at the ready and a gleam in his eyes.

“You’re not off the hook,” she called after him. “We are talking when this is done.” 

Waving her off, he focused his attention on his opponent across from him. Qrow’s expression was not entirely dissimilar to the one he got when he wanted to push Clover into a hidden-away corner and have his way with him. The intensity made focusing on anything else inordinately difficult and gave Qrow the upper hand.

Clover arched a brow and readied his paddle. Unlike with the video game, Clover knew he could use his athletic skill to make it an even match and maybe flex a muscle or two to distract Qrow. There was no time to trade verbal jabs though. Qrow served the ball, and the match started with an even faster pace than the video game had.

Point for point, they kept the match even until Clover started to get the upper hand. With one point ahead in the final match, Clover’s next score would give him the win. They traded quick volleys of back and forth, both holding their own. 

Just when Clover thought he was wearing Qrow down, the table near him collapsed, the leg snapping at the hinge for no apparent reason. Clover, not wanting to lose again, grabbed the table with his right hand to hold his half up while he returned the volley Qrow had fired. The ball clipped the backline of the table and sailed past Qrow, effectively securing Clover the match point.

A cheer erupted from the surrounding Ace-Ops and a few of the kids.

“That’s it, Captain!”

“Woohoo, Clover!”

Clover gently lowered the broken half of the table to the ground. He glanced to Qrow, knowing the accident could be attributed to his semblance. With a sheepish look, Qrow started to giggle. It started slowly and then bubbled forth, spilling past his rosy lips.

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to call maintenance,” Qrow said.

“You said no semblances,” Ruby shouted.

“I can’t exactly control it, pipsqueak,” he said, laughing. “You have to admit it was pretty funny. You kept playing too.”

Clover’s breath caught in his throat at the joyous look on Qrow’s face. The man’s emotions a stark contrast to how their evening started together, and Clover felt a wave of emotion at being the one to bring such a look to Qrow’s features.

“I-it was a good game,” Clover said, trying not to stumble over his words. “I just didn’t want to lose again.”

“You already won once today. Couldn’t get enough?” Qrow teased with a wink.

The kids crowded around, some giving Clover high-fives while others bustled to help push the broken table upright and out of the way. Yang stepped up beside Qrow and cleared her throat, catching their attention. Clover had trouble deciphering the look she was giving her uncle and made to include her in the conversation, but Blake wandered over, beating him to it.

“Well, what do we do now?” She asked.

“I say we get ice cream!” Nora shouted.

“I could be down for that,” Qrow replied.

He looked to Clover with a brow raised in question. Spending more time with this rowdy bunch felt like a good idea to Clover. He could get to know the group of kids in a more relaxed setting, and he could also get to know Qrow better. A deep-seated weariness overtook him at that last thought. Getting to know Qrow better had definitely been in the column of things they agreed not to do, but now, with how the night went so far, Clover felt uncertain about where he and Qrow stood.

A hand wrapped around his elbow and tugged. He turned to find Elm standing there, a demanding expression on her face. Right. She wanted to talk. Clover glanced back over his shoulder and caught Qrow’s eye. The man waved him on, not waiting for Clover to excuse himself.

Feeling reassured, Clover followed her down the opposite hall and away from the boisterous group. Elm always had good insight, and he knew she had been angling for more information. She could help him sort out his clouded thoughts pertaining to Qrow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's confession time!

“Alright big guy, tell me everything.”

Elm had led Clover to an empty hall far away from the boisterous group. She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms, and gave Clover a concerned look. Clover stood rooted in the middle of the hall, unsure if he wanted to say anything.

He sighed, realizing his hesitation was more from not knowing where to start. If Elm had not picked up on his and Qrow’s awkwardness this evening, Clover might have been inclined to brush off the uneasy tension, but no matter how much he had wanted to believe nothing had changed between him and Qrow, Clover could no longer ignore the uneasy shift in dynamics between them.

His relationship with Qrow had evolved. Elm knew as much. She was insightful, watching him change schedules and set up field options for him and Qrow. Other than her occasional teasing, Elm had kept her mouth shut, but with how concerned she looked now, Clover knew she was serious.

No, Clover could not delude himself any further. He cleared his throat and had a hard time keeping eye contact. “I took him to the greenhouse.”

Elm’s brows rose high on her forehead and her mouth dropped open, flabbergasted. “Did you fuck there?”

“No! No, we played chess on a broken board with missing pieces and kind of just took a break from everything. It was nice.” Clover rubbed at the center of his forehead. “We had sex after getting back and I couldn’t- it was…”

“Clover.” Elm dropped her arms and pushed off the wall, getting closer to Clover but still giving him space.

“It’s not like that,” Clover said, crossing his arms at her approach.

“Clearly it’s something.” Her sharp gaze softened. “Oh, Clover. You realized you have feelings for him.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“Did you even talk about it?” She asked.

Clover sighed, glancing away. It’s not like they even had time to discuss anything. He had just come to the conclusion himself, and with the way Qrow had set up their boundaries, Clover was not even sure Qrow would be willing to hear him out.

“How about,” Elm said, interrupting his thoughts, “before you start going down that deep wallowing path, you have an honest conversation with the guy?”

“He hates me,” Clover said resolutely.

“How can you be sure of that?”

Clover shrugged. He had heard enough complaints and derisions on Atlas’ society from Qrow’s mouth to draw that conclusion, no matter how deep it cut.

“You two have been glued at the hip since he got here, and he went to you for help or solace or whatever it is that you two have been doing.”

“You mean using each other for sex, Elm,” Clover said. Just voicing the words out loud made a miserable knot form in his chest. “That doesn’t exactly translate into a relationship.”

“No, but you must admit you two are drawn to each other for more than just those reasons. I’m not blind Clover. I’ve seen the looks you two send each other.”

“Looks. Looks don’t mean anything, Elm. There is no way Qrow feels even remotely the same.”

“You won’t even allow yourself the opportunity to test it and see?”

Clover almost wanted Elm to drop it and leave him be, but he knew she was right. It did not stop him from trying though. “Elm, we are literally at war. I ca-”

“That hasn’t stopped you from having sex.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Clover pulled away from Elm. He knew where she was coming from, but that did not stop the hollow feeling that threatened to consume him whole.

“With the amount of time you two have spent together,” Elm pressed further. “I would gather you’ve done more than just have sex. I know you’re scared, and you put up those boundaries because of past relationships, but don’t let those people get in the way of what you have now.”

Clover blinked away tears that welled at the corners of his eyes. Of all the things Elm could have brought up to help him see sense, his past relationships had been nowhere near the forefront of his thoughts.

“And how do those factor in?” He asked.

“Well, for one they were assholes and took advantage of you. They were manipulative and conniving, and only wanted you for your semblance.”

Elm placed a comforting hand on his forearm, and Clover knew he would have to reconcile his past struggles alongside his mounting tension with Qrow.

Each and every relationship had been its own battle, from introduction to forming bonds to its inevitable end. So many people over some many years, and at the center his semblance persisted in every conflict. Eventually, he had stuck to flings and one nights once he decided not to give his precious time to those that would throw him to the curb when they did not get what they wanted.

“But how does that pertain to Qrow?”

“I know you’ve kind of sworn off relationships since the last one, but with Qrow, you’ve been honest with each other from the beginning. It was only casual, but no matter how much you’ve tried to not get attached, it’s not casual anymore,” Elm said, giving his arm a squeeze. “You need to say something before you hurt yourself by letting this pretense go on further. Qrow is different. I know that. You know that, so let him show you that.”

Clover swallowed thickly. Elm was right. Despite his own past, Qrow had done nothing but show himself to be caring and dependable to those around him. His time spent with Clover had been that way too, even after they both found out about each other’s semblances.

If anything, Qrow understood the acute agony of a semblance that controlled fate. He understood what it was like to have people treat you differently once they found out. He understood the weight of consequences outside of his control. No, in all their time together, Clover never had reason to believe Qrow would only use him for his semblance.

“I just… Give me some time to think it over,” Clover replied after a moment.

“Sure thing, captain,” Elm said. “Just give yourself the chance, okay?”

Clover nodded and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Thank you.”

She sighed, patting his back. “No problem.”

With a final pat on the shoulder, they parted ways. Elm waltzed off down the hall while Clover mulled for a few minutes, but with nothing else to do, he decided to make his way back to his quarters. The halls were blessedly barren, allowing Clover the reprieve from the earlier revelry and the opportunity to sort out his heavy heart. Though his moment alone did not last long.

“Hey, Clover. Wait up!”

Clover froze and turned in time to see Qrow jogging to catch up. There was no time to hide, no time to turn and run, no time to prepare. Clover would just have to endure and hope his heart would come out in one piece on the other side.

“I thought you were going with the kids?” Clover asked, feeling the tremble in his voice. He hoped Qrow would not notice.

“I was,” Qrow said, mouth ending in a firm line. His eyes darted to the side. “Until Yang said somethings.”

“Somethings? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s… it wasn’t about her.”

“Oh.” Clover did not know what to say. He studied Qrow, briefly wondering if his earlier anxieties that had brought him to Clover had resurfaced. Qrow’s hair stood at an odd angle like he had run his hands through it over and over. Clover took a step closer, unsure of how to approach the situation. Qrow did not recoil, but he looked away. The thin line of his lips dipped low at the corners.

“It was about me,” Qrow said with a shaky breath. “And you.”

“Me?” Clover asked. What on Remnant would Yang have to say about him and Qrow. He had limited experience with Qrow’s nieces since most of his time with them had been either during missions or in the training rooms.

“Yeah, you.” Qrow exhaled sharply through his nose before sighing. His eyes flicked over Clover with familiarity and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “This is harder than I thought it was going to be?”

Something clicked in Clover’s brain, and his heart sank. If the conversation went where he thought it was going by Qrow’s disposition, then Clover was in for a world of hurt. He knew Qrow had not been interested in anything more the sex.

Clover took a steadying breath to calm his nerves. It was now or never to get his feelings across. “Can I say something before you continue?”

Qrow hesitated, eyes wearily settling to meet Clover’s. He inclined his head, allowing Clover to say his peace. 

“Somewhere along the line I didn’t want you to hate me,” Clover said in a rush. The words tumbled over themselves, completely missing the mark of everything he had wanted to say.

“Clover, I don’t hate you.”

“But you’re always very vocal about the faults of Atlas Military and I-”

“Clover,” Qrow said insistently. “Just because I hate your job, does not mean I hate you.”

Clover snapped his jaw shut, teeth clacking against each other. He struggled to process Qrow’s words, and before he could piece them together, Qrow continued.

“We haven’t really talked about anything between us, and to be honest I kind of was scared to, because you know, it’s hard to gauge what’s you and what’s your duty,” Qrow said, waving his hand in Clover’s direction. “You put on this front, that that you have everything under control and that you’re so sure of yourself and what you’re doing, so I was struggling to understand why, why me?”

Relief flooded him as Clover realized Qrow grappled with their changing dynamic too. The difficulty of not knowing when or how to voice what changed between them weighed just as heavily on Qrow.

“You know when you first got here, I couldn’t help myself.” The words Clover struggled to say earlier bubbled forth with ease. “I watched you with the kids, saw you care so deeply for those around you, people you have no familial connection to, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to get to know you.” He paused, thinking back to when he had first watched the new group in the training room. “Of course there were the General’s orders, but those were kind of a starting point really.”

Clover paused, letting his eyes wander over Qrow’s features. A pleased smirk quirked at the corner of Qrow’s mouth.

“The attraction was immediate, you know that,” Clover said. “We enjoyed those distractions and spent a lot of time around each other, and whether we planned it or not, I did get to know you.” He paused, lowing his head unable to keep eye contact with Qrow. “I liked what I uncovered. You may be cynical and disparaging, but you care. And, if I’m being honest, it helps that you didn’t use me for my semblance, but I think you understand that more than others.”

Clover cautioned a glance at Qrow’s reaction but faltered as Qrow’s expression crumbled in anguish. 

“I mean.” Qrow slowly replied like he was testing the words, making sure that when they were uttered there would be no confusion about the implication. “I was using your semblance to some extent. You’re… I feel… That’s not right.” Qrow paused, letting out a frustrated groan. “You make me feel safe. Like my shit luck isn’t going to affect you, and if it does yours will be able to catch you.”

Clover’s thoughts drifted back to the game earlier when the table had broken, and he caught it. The joy on Qrow's face after was nothing short of contagious, but now with Qrow’s justification, the moment of elation pulled into perspective. Clover’s heart ached at the insinuation, and he longed to assuage Qrow’s fears.

“Qrow, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like it’s okay to be around you like I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You can hurt me in other ways entirely unrelated to your semblance. You know that, right?” Clover stepped in close, placing a hand on Qrow’s elbow. “I think your intent behind your actions is much more important than a semblance you haven’t learned to control yet. Besides of all the reasons for using my semblance, offering you the opportunity to feel safe is far tamer compared to past relationships. I didn’t even consider its implications till you brought them up.”

“I just don’t want something built on that pretense,” Qrow said. He looked up at Clover under his eyelashes. Clover’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s not fair to you especially when you’ve so carefully thought out your desires in getting to know me. Though, in regards to the semblances, none of that changes the way I feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I think that you care very much for the people around you.” Qrow took a step closer into Clover’s space, forcing Clover to refocus his gaze. With Qrow a hairsbreadth away, Clover had difficulty concentrating on his words. “And the way you make me feel because of that care is special to me. I want you around for more than just what we have been doing, for more than just your semblance, for more than being partners. Clover, I really like you, as in you make me happy,” His eyes narrowed to Clover’s lips. Bringing his hand up to cup Clover’s jaw, Qrow tilted his head to look Clover in the eye. “Can I kiss you?” 

Clover stood stock still, half out of an unfounded fear that Qrow would turn and leave, and half out of sheer disbelief that Qrow wanted this too.

“Yeah,” Clover replied gruffly. “Yes. Ye-”

Qrow cut off Clover’s rambling affirmations with an undemanding and light kiss. The hesitation behind the soft affection melted Clover’s heart, and he pushed forward through his anxiety to return the embrace. Melding together, they traded soft pecks in an unhurried exploration wholly unlike anything they had done before.

Lost in the heady sensations, Clover missed the telltale clack of combat boots striking the floor. A longsuffering sigh sounded behind him, and the General’s voice cut through the haze that clouded Clover’s mind.

“Ebi, my office.”

Clover jumped, nose smashing against Qrow’s. He winced, craning his neck around to find his General standing in the middle of the hall, a scowl etched deep on his face and arms crossed behind his back. Clover cast a sidelong glance at Qrow who looked just as startled at being interrupted.

Heart hammering in his chest, Clover regretfully disentangled himself from Qrow. Informing General Ironwood about his relationships had not crossed Clover’s mind and now the prospect of such an encounter kicked his anxiety into high gear.

Clover turned to follow General Ironwood, not daring to look back at Qrow. They had only just discussed things between them, to open that up to the General when he barely grasped where he and Qrow stood seemed like a daunting task. Clover felt frayed at the edges. 

“Hey.” A hand caught his, pulling him to a gentle stop. Clover spun back around, apprehensive of what Qrow had to say. Qrow’s face was guarded, but his eyes held a level of caring that eased Clover’s worries.

“I’ll catch you after,” Qrow said. His fingers trailed across Clover’s as he dropped his grip, a soft assurance of their budding relationship. Clover nodded, hoping there would be an after.

An awkward tension hung in the air as Clover followed the General to his office. When they arrived, Ironwood purposefully strode in and took a seat behind his desk without a word to Clover. The atmosphere carried the weight and uncomfortable accountabilities of disciplinary meetings he had held with several privates. Remaining silent, Clover stood at attention with his arms pinned behind his back. Clover just hoped this meeting would not have the same punitive outcome.

“When did this happen?” The General asked.

Clover cleared his throat, figuring something as close to the truth as possible would help him keep his story straight. “Uh, a slow progression.”

General Ironwood steepled his hand, thumbs tucked under his chin and forefingers pressed to his brow. His eye’s closed, and Clover wondered how much sleep the General had gotten in recent weeks. Everyone else got a night off, James probably needed one too.

“I guess I can’t fault you,” General Ironwood said. “I did say I thought you had things in common, but I had figured friendship rather than...” The General cleared his throat. “Although Qrow has been known to-“

“Don’t continue that thought, James.” Clover looked away, hiding a scowl. His heart pounded. Calling out the General for his behavior was risky. If Clover faltered, he could be court-martialed. “You know as well as I, Qrow has put a long of hard work into changing for the better. Blaming him for things well outside his control was out of line. You did it a few weeks ago, and though I don’t know what you said to him earlier today, your insinuation about his behavior now, for someone you claim to be a friend of, is only detrimental to what we are trying to accomplish here.”

“What we’re trying to accomplish Captain has ramifications across the globe,” Ironwood exclaimed, jabbing his Index finger emphatically on his desk. “I will not have him jeopardize that.”

“And he’s not, but you are,” Clover countered with a cursory glance James’ appearance. The exhaustion was easy to pick up, the dark bags under his eyes, the hunched shoulders, and shaking prosthetic arm. James Ironwood needed help. “You are worn thin, overworking, and not delegating vital tasks that could be spread out among the Ace-Ops to help balance the workload. I know how important Amity is. We all do, so let us help. You need to get some rest just as much as we do.”

James’ shoulders slouched low as he relaxed back in his chair. His shaking prosthetic hand covered his eyes. “I could have you court-martialed for that, Clover.”

“I know,” Clover replied, standing tall.

“I haven’t exactly been…” James paused, sighing. “Let’s just say these past few months have been stressful in trying to get Amity up and running, and with Salem moving ever closer… We have an opportunity here to get the word out about what’s happening.”

“Which is why you should lean on us,” Clover said. “The Ace-Ops are here for more than just search and destroy missions, Qrow included.”

James straightened, taking on a very official Atlas front and signaling the likely end to their conversation. “I’ll apologize to him on my own time, Captain, but as you know relationships between co-workers is not allowed. Since Qrow is not under Atlas employ, I trust that you use your judgment wisely. We’ll discuss more about Amity tomorrow. For now, you’re free to go.”

Although he was reluctant to leave the discussion there, Clover gave a salute.

“At ease, Captain.”

“Tomorrow then. You should take the night off too, James,” Clover said, leaving the office. He did not wait for a reply, eager to get back to Qrow and sort out everything that had transpired.

To his luck, Qrow was waiting outside, against the wall and fiddling with his scroll. The door closed behind Clover and Qrow’s head snapped up at the sound, a smirk spreading across his face in greeting. Clover walked over, still carrying his usual bravado as an Atlas soldier. He pulled up just shy of Qrow, who straightened up and faced him, slipping his scroll into his pocket.

“So?” Qrow asked with a smirk set on his lips. He pushed the fringe of his hair back. Clover tracked the motion with great interest, astounded Qrow would so brazenly turn up the cocky and confident charm outside the General’s office with little indication of Clover’s fate. He should have been more contrite when he left James’ office.

“Nothing too concerning,” Clover replied, eyes still locked on the slight change to Qrow’s appearance. He really liked the look. “He wanted to make sure we weren’t letting our relationship get in the way of work.”

“Sounds promising,” Qrow said, letting his eyes rake over Clover. He leaned forward and motioned come-hither to Clover with a hand and putting the other hand on his hip.

Clover’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead and his cheeks burned. “You are incorrigible.”

“What?” Qrow replied. A smirk nothing short of salacious plastered on his face. “Maybe I want to rub it in Jimmy’s face a little. Corrupting his Captain and all. He was an ass earlier.”

Qrow reached towards Clover and threaded a finger through his belt loop. He pulled with a strength that had Clover stumbling forward. Bracing against the wall behind Qrow’s head, Clover briefly fumbled to find stable footing as a searing kiss took his breath away. Clover moaned while Qrow’s hand wrapped around his waist to grope his ass and pull him in closer, letting Clover rest most of his weight against him and the wall.

“Oh, for Brother’s sake.” The terse words had Clover dragging himself away from Qrow for a second time that night to find General Ironwood at the threshold of his door just as disgruntled as he had been the first time he had stumbled upon them. James pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a resigned sigh. “Just not in the halls.”

Without waiting for a response, he marched away down the opposite hall. Clover gave one last look over his shoulder back in General Ironwood’s direction before grabbing Qrow’s hand, pulling him in the direction of the officer’s quarters.

“How about we get out of here then?” Clover said, inclining his head towards Qrow.

“Sounds good to me, lucky charm,” Qrow said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Clover’s mouth. Threading his fingers with Clover’s, he leaned in and whispered in Clover’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard into your mattress you’ll be screaming my name.”

“Qrow!” Clover exclaimed, fighting a blush.

“But,” Qrow continued without pause, “This time I know I'm allowed to cuddle you afterward.”

Clover, pleased with that line of thought, teased, “You wanted to cuddle.”

“Of course,” Qrow said. He matched Clover’s even gait step for step, and a pleasant rush filled Clover. Even Though reconciling their relationship happened in the blink of an eye, Clover thought they had a much better foothold for going forward.

“Then we can talk about your shitty exes,” Qrow said. Clover took a faltering step forward, telling Qrow of his past, opening himself up, and being vulnerable with old hurts, those might take some time. Qrow grasped his forearm, steadying him. “Easy there, cowboy.”

But with Qrow, he would be willing to go there. “I could be okay with that.”

Qrow smiled softly at Clover’s reply and his hand gently squeezed Clover’s. They would have time for those discussions about semblances, about pasts, and now their futures too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNDD that’s all folks. I’ve finished, finally. 
> 
> This turned out very different than the idea I started with, but I like how it ended up. Although I feel like I could have shown Qrow’s cynicism and angst directed at Clover a little more, it just didn’t really fit with where the tone of the story was going and I dislike rewriting things after I’ve posted them. It’s also why I don’t like titling things till I’m done but it is what it is.
> 
> I do have a stack of deleted spicy scenes that I thought about writing up as a little side series, but I’m not the most confident with my writing ability when it comes to that kind of thing, so I don’t know if I’ll ever actually post them. For now, this series is done.
> 
> Thanks for reading and following along! Feel free to leave a comment even if it’s just a simple ‘loved it’. Your comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> Also, prayers for not accidentally deleting this again in the future 🙏


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